Elizabeth House
by Missgoldy
Summary: Searching Louisiana for his missing cousin, Ma Ti suffers the same fate and disappears. Frantic with worry, the remaining Planeteers investigate but soon realize that some local legends are better left alone. Chapter Two is up... sorry it's late!
1. Chapter 1

I don't really know where I'm going with this fic….

I realize that's probably not a very comforting thought, but the general plotline has been bubbling along in my head since the end of AD. Yes, it's horror/action… probably a weird combination for a wholesome, politically correct children's' cartoon, but hey, I'm gonna' go with it. I kindly ask you to be patient with me, and we'll see where my erratic verbal vomit ultimately takes us.

Note: This fic is set just after the events of "**Monkeys and Mistletoe**". If you've read it, you'll have a good idea what to expect in the later chapters!

I don't own the concept of Captain Planet, nor am I making any money from this modest hobby.

* * *

**Elizabeth House**

Chapter One

When approaching the town of St Francisville, Louisiana, the accompanying scenery can be best described as unimpressive. Alternating between rolling hills and shallow, trickling streams, the sparse landscape had obviously seen better days. Eighteen months of limited rainfall has reduced the once glorious environment to a bland shade of brown. The glorious oak trees which lined the River Road into town were now twisted and gnarled, dropping leaves at an alarming rate.

The local council, eager to protect their ancient patients had recently taken it upon themselves to plant a costly irrigation system around the roots, sourced from an underground bore. Despite the steady supply of moisture, the once-majestic live oaks continued to remain a shadow of their former selves.

Passing through this cavalcade of bare trees, the traveler will eventually enter a town seemingly ripped straight from the pages of Hans Christian Anderson. A quaint, small, _safe_ town. To the casual observer, the town appears to be stuck in a 50's time-warp. Bustling antique shops and café's line Main Street, along with busy tourists: retired couples, Sunday drivers, church groups and young families overwhelmed by crying toddlers, street maps and digital SLR cameras strapped to their chests. Happy, smiling, unassumin_g _faces.

They pose with local tourist officials, dressed in colonial gear for the 36th Annual Audubon Pilgrimage. The once abundant parks and private gardens which usually open for the event are now reduced to a limited few, due to the drought. Bird enthusiasts also flock to the region, eager to get a glimpse of a rare species.

A popular pastime, bird-watching pales in comparison to the real reason why the tourists keep coming and returning in droves.

The plantations.

The rambling, stately mansions which outwardly project such a dignified appearance. Winding driveways, marble pillars, grand staircases and manicured gardens where no doubt, the laughter of young children long gone can still be heard on moon-lit nights.

The Bayou State proudly maintains the legacy of these dwellings, restoring many of them to their former glory. St Francisville is home to many restored plantations, with The Myrtles, The Cottage and Oakley Plantation amongst the most popular. A general admission is charged by the National Trust, contributing to the general upkeep of the buildings and their history.

One plantation however, remains overlooked by the National Trust for various reasons. Crumbling and dilapidated, the house sits a mile or so back from the disused road, disguised by tangled ferns and brambles to the rare passer-by. Those few individuals who do venture further often find that despite the dryness which pervades the local area, the ground here often gives way beneath them, causing their feet to sink about an inch into the soil. Strangely, the drought seems to have had no effect here. Further towards the house, the original wetlands have now given way to thick swamp. Those who would be silly enough to stray here would find no sign of life. No birds, frogs, crickets or other insects can be heard, just the whisper of the wind through the dry foliage.

The original owners of Elizabeth Plantation, built in the late 1800's had grown abundant crops of sugar cane. Located in the middle of scenic wetlands, it was said that the lady of Elizabeth House would spend many happy hours exploring the abundance of wildlife that the wetlands had to offer. The plantation had thrived until the floods of 1920 which destroyed the crops and put the family out of business. With large debts accumulating at an unrelenting pace, the proud owner of Elizabeth Plantation had no choice but to sell up.

The grounds had never fully recovered and as the wetlands gradually encroached upon the mansion, the mansion became unlivable. The new owners had apparently left within weeks as the rampant moisture caused irreparable damage to the interior of the house. They had even left their belongings, many of the household objects still waiting to be unpacked and placed in their proper places. The building then sat neglected for half a century, surrounded by the quagmire.

A developer bought the land in the early 1970's, hoping to dry out the land and restore the mansion to its once former glory. These plans were shelved when a young apprentice working for the developer was pinned under the drainage machinery and apparently drowned in the mud. Despite his dying screams and the efforts of the workers, the body was never found. When the heavy object was lifted, all they recovered was the boy's left shoe.

Local myths and legends had always been rampant since the early beginnings of Elizabeth House, only now they intensified. Whispers of voodoo curses, strange lights in the vicinity and the sound of a woman sobbing had been reported from the area over the years. The land now belonged to the council, who had investigated the grounds (during daylight hours) several times. They had found nothing but damp walls, rotting floorboards and silence.

Of course, at night… that was a whole different story.

* * *

"Aw, c'mon. Don't be such a wimp!"

Davi shook his head, staring defiantly towards the older boys, one of whom was currently shining the beam of his torch directly into his eyes.

"I said NO! That place scares me." Davi crossed his arms over his scrawny chest, trying to block out the eerie stillness of the night. The quarter-moon hung suspended in the night sky, doing little to light the private road they were currently heading down.

"My mom says it's haunted, ya' know,' said Jason, his seemingly disembodied voice coming from somewhere behind them, probably by the fence line.

"You really believe that stuff?" Matthew asked, transferring the flashlight towards the sound of Jason's voice for a moment. He squinted, but was unable to see anything beyond the beam. He returned the light to its prior position, amused to see Davi's face was now bright red.

"Would you cut it out?" Davi pleaded with a hint of his native accent, ducking out of the way. The gravel crunched under his feet as he began walking back the way they had come.

Matthew followed him, a much larger boy of fifteen who was overweight for his age and often used his size to his advantage in the school yard. Not to be deterred, he shone the beam in Jason's face, who had now joined them again, munching on a half-melted Hershey bar which had been well concealed in his pocket.

"How about you, Jase'?"

Jason shrugged nonchalantly, displaying the typical teen bravado that Davi was so obviously missing. "I dunno. Wouldn't it be better if we did this tomorrow?"

"Why?"

"Cuz' we'll probably get stuck' in the friggin swamp before we even make it to the house."

Matthew rolled his eyes, frustrated at their lack of enthusiasm. Turning around, the older boy made his way back towards Elizabeth House's overgrown driveway. With the property surrounded by tangled wire, the fence-line bore the mark of a few would-be intruders, namely empty beer cans and broken glass.

"Where are … c'mon!" Davi whined, torn between following his 'mate' and fleeing the scene. He cursed, suddenly wishing for the safety and security of his bedroom, fully equipped with his second-hand Playstation 2 and Star Wars bed-sheets. Not that he would ever openly admit to owning them. Davi stared around unhappily, attempting to stem the bile rising within his throat. He was frightened, plain and simple. A small boy of 15 with dark olive skin and penetrating brown eyes, the young boy was bright, sensible and neck-deep in a situation which he felt uncomfortable in.

Making friends had never been his strong point. Having been granted refugee status, his family had emigrated from their war-torn homeland of Brazil to the U.S when Davi was about five. Entering kindergarten with no grasp of the English language was hard enough, but recovering from the death and carnage he had left behind would be an even greater challenge to overcome. Shy and withdrawn as a result, Davi (meaning _beloved_) had always cut a solitary figure in the school playground. It wasn't until Junior High that Davi had begun to hang out with Matt and his 'friends'.

_Right now, I could be happily stealing BMW's on Grand Theft Auto,_ he thought miserably, before a sense of mate-ship caused him to turn around and pursue Matthew's retreating footsteps. As Jason joined him, they both followed Matthew through the rusty barbed wire, talking in low, hushed voices.

* * *

Davi's footsteps were magnified in the eerie silence, his tattered Reeboks making a sloshing sound through the moist ground. At one point he slipped and lost his balance, searching out blindly for something to help regain his balance. Having failed, Davi fell to his knees, gasping as the wet mud penetrated the legs of his jeans. He groaned harshly, before pulling himself to his feet and stumbling forward again through the brush.

"Guys? Guys, wait up," he hissed, aware that he could see the flashlight beam moving indiscriminately some yards ahead of him. Matt and Jason's silhouettes were barely visible, prompting Davi to move faster, more out of fear than necessity.

His heart thumping in his chest, Davi cursed himself for his apparent lack of courage.

_My cousin would not be scared like this._

The boy sniffed in response to the thought, gaining momentum as the flashlight beam flickered, then briefly disappeared from his view. Rather alarmed now, Davi hurried faster still, ignoring the slaps and scratches inflicted by various tree branches. The brush had become thicker and more untamed now as he started to cry, barreling blindly through the dark, desperate to rejoin the others. A lump had formed within his throat. Tears began streaming down his face which he miserably wiped at with the back of his hand. The quarter moon seemed to follow his every move, it's glow cheesy and yellow… almost unnatural.

_Stop crying. Ma-Ti would not cry like this._

The thought spurred him on. Ma-Ti's life and achievements had always been a source of great pride to Davi. Having lost his immediate family at a young age, Ma-Ti had not only survived but thrived. Ma-Ti was a Planeteer now, facing fear and danger almost every day. Davi and his family were now Ma-Ti's only living relatives, albeit second cousins. Davi had been delighted when Ma-Ti had attempted to make contact with him about a year after they had settled in Louisiana. The two boys had kept in contact via letters, emails and the odd phone call. Davi always looked forward to the correspondences, glad to have a friend who he could confide in.

The two cousins' close friendship put Davi's current situation to shame. The knowledge suddenly assailed him, stirring feelings of anger, resentment and the harsh realization….

_I do not even like these guys._

Davi's left foot suddenly sunk into the mud, causing him to momentarily forget his thoughts and topple forward. He cried out in fright, using his arms to break the fall. Davi's face hit the ground with a wet _slapping _sound.

_Ow._

He lay where he was for a while, too stunned to move. The boy lifted his head a few inches, seeing nothing but blackness in all directions. What alarmed him further was that he could no longer hear Matt and Jason.

Davi blinked, wiping a glob of mud from his brow. He continued lying on his stomach, silent and watchful, listening for any sign of the older boys. A slight breeze was all which greeted him, parting the tree branches slightly until…

Davi jumped to his feet as Matt's flashlight beam came into view, flickering dimly through the leaves. He limped towards it…. cold, wet and miserable at the unfortunate turn of events. As the flashlight came into view, Davi sunk down beside it, grasping it in his numb hands. The temperature had seemingly dropped dramatically, apparent as the light picked up the icy breath issuing from Davi's trembling mouth.

A fierce survival instinct kicked in from this point. No longer caring what had become of his friends, Davi turned and ran, the light clutched tightly within his right hand.

_IwannagohomeIwannagohomeIwannagohome…_

His lungs nearly burst from the exertion but he ignored it, simply wanting to be anywhere _other _than here. The coldness seemed to follow him, causing the hairs on the back of his neck to stand on end. He yelled as his left shoulder caught the side of a tree. He fell, this time powerless to avoid barreling down a steep incline. Davi lost his grip on the flashlight as he slammed into a rock but he kept falling nonetheless, tumbling into the encroaching darkness.

Davi finally came to a halt after careening into a slimy pool of liquid. Winded and exhausted, he was dimly aware that he had wet himself and that he was crying again. His terrified sobs echoed around him, punctuating the deathly silence. He turned onto his side, dragging himself through thick mud towards the flashlight jutting out from just above him, desperate to grasp the…..

It rolled away from his outstretched hand, driven by an unseen force. Suffering from shock, all Davi could do was watch the beam move across his field of view, settling upon… something.

Davi squinted, his heartbeat now thudding heavily from within his chest. A pair of shoes were visible; muddy, wet and gently illuminated by the beam.

_Converse All-Stars…_

The beam cast shadows upon the torso and face of the broken body lying in front of him, but Davi could recognize Jason's lower body jutting out of the swampy waters. Jason's body disappeared for a moment, before reappearing just as quickly, as if something has passed through the flashlight beam. A high-pitched buzzing noise assaulted Davi's ears as his panic rose.

_There is something here with m…._

A black shape barreled past him. Once, twice….

The beam flickered again. Davi turned, sensing the figure rather than seeing it. The shape now stood opposite Davi, crouching behind Jason's broken body. The figure regarded Davi with cold malevolence, causing the boy to keen in abject fright.

_Oh God, MA-TI! Please hel…_

Suddenly, Jason's feet were dragged from Davi's sight within a split second, disappearing from the dim beam of light. Davi turned and threw up his dinner, clutching his head with despair. As the light gradually faded away, Davi curled up into a fetal position, his eyes now devoid of all awareness…

The flashlight continued to dim, before plunging the area into complete darkness. It would remain there long after the sun had risen the next morning; a rusted, almost inanimate object hidden well within a clump of reeds. The flashlight would eventually be discovered by Ma-Ti himself a few days later, searching for his cousin within the grounds of the plantation.

The flashlight would be found…. Davi would not.

* * *

Yes, that's it for the moment. Next chapter will launch straight into Ma-Ti and the gang, I promise. A little background was necessary. Please let me know whether you want me to continue. **Read and review**, little chickens.

Sarah 


	2. Chapter 2

_So many awesome fics popping up around here, thought I'd betta' get off my lazy butt and start writing again. Guilt is a wondrous thing, people…. _

* * *

**Elizabeth House **

Chapter Two

* * *

_A faceless terror plagued his sleep tonight, accompanied by frenzied tossing and turning. An unknown assailant haunted his dreams, pursuing him relentlessly through a never-ending maze of dark corridors. Left, right, left again… a panicked glance over his shoulder proves fruitless. Nothing is there, only shadows and darkness._

_But something is there nonetheless… a presence, almost unnatural. The man stops running, his chest heaving from both fear and physical exertion. His surroundings seem oppressively claustrophobic, as if the walls are closing in on him. His shoes are wet, soaked through to the thin cotton of his socks with thick mud but he is unaware of his own discomfort._

_Movement from behind… _

_The man can't force himself to turn around, as if the mere suggestion will reveal a fate worse than death. A large bead of sweat begins to band around the bridge of his nose, before trickling off the tip and falling noiselessly to the ground. More movement from behind him, a slithering sound that sends shivers running down to the base of his spine. A soft breeze caresses the man's short hair…. _

_He stares onward, clenching and unclenching his fists until his nails pierce the skin. The slithering has been replaced by an odd scraping sound, but the man stares ahead nonetheless, afraid to look._

_He raises his hand, pressing the knuckles of his clenched and bleeding fist against his sweaty forehead, the only reflex his muddled brain can do to ward off whatever was coming for him._

"_Heart…"_

_His only cousin materializes for just a moment before his eyes, barely resembling the young, healthy boy he had been. Davi's mouth is hanging wide open in an anguished grimace of pain. His eyes are dead, devoid of all sight and awareness. The image retreats just as quickly, replaced by a looming shape that threatens to envelop the man whole. He struggles, resisting the creature as a frightened howl rises within the now frigid air._

**Thump.**

_The howl becomes a shriek as the man flails his arms and feet, desperate to escape. He is gasping for breath now, clawing frantically at the frigid air. The shrieking seems to reach a crescendo as the icy air infiltrates every nerve ending, every limb. The ear-piercing screams soon fade as…._

* * *

**THUMP THUMP THUMP!**

Incessant banging immediately intrude upon the man's restless sleep, mercifully catapulting him back into reality. He woke slowly as the frightening images retreated into the back of his mind (for the moment, any way). As the nightmare faded, the man flung himself upright, soaked in sweat and momentarily disorientated. He swallowed with some difficulty, clutching the bed sheets with a panicky grip. His throat felt dry and painfully hoarse, almost as if he had been….

_Was that ME screaming?_

He scooted quickly up the bed, but his nerveless, twitchy fingers made contact with an object on his bedside table. It fell, crashing to the tiled floor and shattering loudly in the pervading silence. Another sharp thump reverberated next to his ear, forceful enough to shake the adjoining wall which separated his own room from the next. He stared ahead, catching his breath as an irate voice permeated through the thin walls, muffled but clearly American in origin… and rather angry, at that.

"**Damn it, Ma-Ti! Shut the hell up!"**

Cringing, he muttered a sincere apology through the wall. He lent back against his pillows, reflecting upon the nightmare with a worried frown.

_What in God's name was that all about?_

Thoroughly unnerved by the nightmare, Ma-Ti pulled his quilt around his rapidly cooling body and hung his head, concentrating on his rather erratic breathing. His first thought was for Davi, although the Planeteer also acknowledged the absurdity of the situation: that a bad dream could be interpreted as anything more than what it was.

_Has something happened to him?_

After a moment's hesitation, Ma-Ti attempted to remedy that thought. Repeating the same gesture he had used in the nightmare, he raised his ring and summoned his cousin.

"Heart."

He waited for a few moments, concentrating hard as the ring bathed his room in a soft glow. When it was apparent that his command was receiving no response, Ma-Ti disconnected the telepathy and sunk back into the pillows, dejected. The room plunged into darkness again as the Planeteer contemplated the results of his unsuccessful attempt.

He sighed, slightly perturbed but not overly concerned. There were many potential inhibitors when contacting a person. Deep sleep, coma, inebriation… they all occasionally impacted upon Ma-Ti's ability to contact individuals.

_Besides, I sensed no pain or injury. I would have sensed that, regardless of his situation. I'm being paranoid._

He looked over towards where his bedside was located. Fumbling around, he eventually found the small night-light and switched it on. The red digits of his alarm clock blinked away at him, causing him to exhale sharply.

_4:37 am. Wheeler's gonna' kill me._

He groaned, before swinging his legs over the side of the bed and standing. His feet landed on broken glass and he stumbled slightly, before limping to the small ensuite bathroom. Shedding his clothes in a few swift, graceful movements, Ma-Ti stepped into the shower, turning the faucets until steam was billowing in every direction. He stood under the spray, letting the hot water wash away the physical and emotional remnants of the dream.

_I'll ring Davi in a few hours, _he thought, knowing that it was not worth contacting them at this inappropriate hour for what he perceived to be a silly dream.

_He'll be fine._

* * *

Having no inclination whatsoever to attempt sleep again, Ma-Ti padded quietly towards the communal kitchen in bare feet, careful not to wake the others. He smiled as he passed Gi's room at the opposite end of the compound: soft snoring could be heard through her slightly ajar door. Bracing himself against the unusually chilly air, he entered the moonlit kitchen to find a familiar, hunched profile already sitting at the breakfast table. Partially obscured by a cereal box and a plastic milk bottle, the other figure became aware of Ma-Ti's presence as soon as he entered the room. An unimpressed face glared at Ma-Ti as he took a seat opposite, bedraggled red hair and bright blue eyes visible even in the limited light.

"I woke you up?"

Wheeler scoffed, dropping his spoon into the bowl of Kellogg's Cocoa Krispies. "Oh, you think?" he replied, rolling his eyes and hunching back down behind the cereal box.

"Was I that bad?" Ma-Ti asked hesitantly, afraid to hear the answer. Wheeler's eyes briefly appeared again over the cereal box, his brows raised.

"You gotta' be kiddin' me…I think they heard you in South-East Burma, Ma-Ti."

"Oh. I am so sorry, my friend," Ma-Ti replied remorsefully, rubbing his eyes and yawning at the same time. "Bad dream."

Wheeler grunted as way of reply but remained hidden behind the cereal box, too tired to put any real malice into a sharp reply. They sat in silence for a while, the silence broken only by the soft whir of the refrigerator motor and Wheeler's monotonous munching.

Ma-Ti regarded the older American with a quiet reverence, content in the knowledge that the Fire Planeteer's unique personality made it impossible for him to hold grudges towards anyone, least of all his friends. Wheeler was like a brother to the youngest member of the Planeteers. In his earlier years, Ma-Ti had striven to emulate the mannerisms and behavior of the boisterous, confident and at times, brazen American. These days however, Ma-Ti was confident enough to follow his own path, which was probably wise considering the consequences Wheeler's over-sized ego used to inflict upon certain members of the group, particularly Linka. Luckily, the American had mellowed over the last few years. He was less impulsive these days, more reflective but still retained an air of quiet confidence. He was still as opinionated as ever, but had now perfected the fine art of keeping his mouth shut when the situation called for it… most of the time, anyway. The changes were positive, in Ma-Ti's opinion.

Swinging around in his chair, Ma-Ti grabbed a bowl and spoon from the drying rack and plonked them down on the table. He sighed, before reaching for the box of cereal and milk and pouring himself a small amount. He ate a mouthful of the chocolaty puffed rice and grimaced before replacing the spoon back within the bowl.

"Urgh…I think I have lost my appetite."

Wheeler raised his eyebrows and stood, clearing his plates as the sun begun to crest over the horizon, bathing the timber bench tops and appliances in a yellow glow. It was obviously going to be another glorious day on the island. "What was the nightmare about?"

Ma-Ti recounted it in some detail, his eyes narrowing as he confronted the more frightening aspects of the dream. "I'm sure Davi is fine, though…" he added, almost as an attempt to reassure himself rather than the American. "…still, I thought I might take the Cruiser today and see him. It has been a while since I saw them, so I'm due for a visit."

Wheeler shrugged, running his hand through his sleep-matted hair before pushing his chair under the table. "Do what you gotta' do, man. Just have it back before Kwame realizes it's gone."

Ma-Ti nodded, very much aware of the crackdown issued recently over the use of the Geo-Cruiser for personal use. Known for her calm, caring demeanor, Gaia had finally lost her monumental patience three weeks ago. After a Planeteer Alert had been issued, it was discovered that both Gi and their transport were missing in action, nowhere to be found.

A bank on the Aswan Dam had broken, flooding the town with torrents of water. As the main source of fresh water to most of Egypt, the effects had been catastrophic. Unfortunately, the group was stuck on Hope Island with no clue as to the whereabouts of the Planeteer whose power was the only one capable of reversing at least some of the damage.

After several panicked phone calls and summons, Gi had hot-footed it back to the island and received a verbal tirade from Gaia within her chamber, with the other Planeteers able to catch much of the heated discussion from outside.

The consequences had been dramatic. Gi had been devastated by both Gaia's reaction and the spirit's dwindling faith in her abilities. Even from outside the chamber, Ma-Ti had heard words such as "priorities" and "reliability" thrown around, which must have been difficult for Gi to face on her own. She had left the chamber about fifteen minutes later, pale and shaking uncontrollably. Linka had immediately led her back to her own room, leaving the boys on the chamber verandah to ponder where Gi had been and more specifically, why she hadn't told anyone she was going in the first place.

Kwame had since instituted an effective ban on taking the Geo Cruiser anywhere that wasn't considered official business. Cabin fever had set in soon after, leaving the Planeteers dejected and restless. No one blamed Gi, but she had withdrawn a lot since the altercation, to the point of even refusing to talk to Linka about her whereabouts on the morning in question.

"Do you think it's worth me taking the risk?" Ma-Ti asked quietly, examining a drop of milk that had fallen and beaded upon the timber surface. "I wont be long…"

Wheeler ran a hand through his red hair again, adding to the general sense of disarray his appearance was already projecting. "Just go, man. Gaia hasn't surfaced for a while… and I'll take care of our distinguished leader."

"Are you sure, Wheele…"

"It's fine…. I'll cover for you, man."

"I don't want you to get into any…"

Wheeler pushed his chair in and made for the hallway, as if the matter was already closed for discussion. Ma-Ti quickly jumped to his feet, a look of abject relief on his face as he followed the American out of the dining area.

"Thank you, my friend. I owe you one."

"Would you go, already?" Wheeler implored, turning and half-pushing the younger man out of the common rooms and towards the landing strip. "Just have it back in a couple of hours, or it's both our heads on the chopping block." The American opened the hatch of the Geo-Cruiser and stepped back, hands in pockets and yawning as Ma-Ti climbed into the cock-pit.

Ma-Ti turned the ignition and flicked the appropriate switches, waiting for the engines to warm up. He looked out through the wind-shield and saw Wheeler heading back towards his hut, his tall figure hunched over on this unusually cold morning. The American soon disappeared from view, prompting Ma-Ti to initiate the take-off procedures. The small mud-brick compound soon faded from view as the aircraft rose through the air, before arcing right and picking up speed.

The calm bay below was a distinct contrast to the turbulent emotions fueling Ma-Ti's anxiety. He was still uneasy, unable to quell the feeling that something was indeed wrong. He shook his head, relegating the negative thoughts to the back of his mind, concentrating instead on the steady _whirr _of the engines.

* * *

**Twelve hours later.**

"Get the hell outta' there! Damn kids…"

Like a deer in the headlights, the teenager froze in his current position: backside hanging out of the police car and outstretched hand on the portable radio sitting on the console. The boy backed out quickly, seeing the Deputy's large frame ambling towards him through the driver's side window.

"Hey! That's police property!"

Grabbing the equipment with practiced ease, the kid easily dodged the portly officer and sprinted away from the scene, knocking over several media personnel in the process. The deputy swore loudly, gaining the attention of several blonde local news reporters huddled together beside an unmarked van. One turned and glared at him, clearly irked by his manner and unseemly appearance. Not that he cared.

Deputy Johnson sighed, before slamming the door of his cruiser shut, locking it and returning to the throng of police, media and curious bystanders swelling around the blockade set up around the plantation gates. He steeled himself for the barrage of questions about to be thrown at him as he wove his way through the crowd. A KBBL microphone was suddenly thrust towards him, hitting him in the cheek and he slapped it aside, his mood growing more dangerous by the second.

"Deputy Johnson, would you like to comment on the…:"

"Deputy, can you confirm the rumor that a dead body has been found within the grounds?"

"Can you tell us anything about the small aircraft reported flying overhead several hours ago?" Is there a link…"

"Is it true that two of your men have been reported…"

"Get outta' my way," he grumbled, pushing past a particularly persistent reporter. "No comment." An officer opened the blockade slightly and Johnson's large bulk passed through, leaving the media circus behind. He increased his pace, already out of breath, but his growing concern far outweighed his poor physical health.

_So much for my friggin' day off._

The thought was inconsequential, however. The deputy was worried. Being called away from a game of golf on account of an emergency was rare in a town such as this, where a serious misdemeanor was usually no worse than a _break and enter_. His second in charge hadn't given much detail on the situation, but the fear in Officer Nguyen's voice was clearly evident when he had phoned.

Johnson increased his pace, suddenly feeling a cold chill pervade the air. He shivered, aware that the surroundings were unnaturally still.

_Something is wrong, here._

Looking up, he could see the towering, ancient elm trees swaying above him. They moved but made no sound, not even a faint rustle. The deputy pushed forward, struggling as the ground ahead of him became increasingly harder to negotiate.

"Whoah!"

The inevitable happened. His feet slipped from underneath him. Desperate to maintain his balance, the Deputy found himself lumbering around in a most unseemly manner. He grabbed hold of a tree branch and eventually steadied himself, his heart pounding. He felt confused, completely turned around as he surveyed his surroundings, unsure if he was even walking in the right direction. The hairs stood up on the back of his neck a he realized he wanted to be any place _other _than here.

"Jesus Christ," he muttered, suddenly wanting to run, to escape this otherworldly place. A thought unbecoming of the local law-man, to say the least.

His anxiety dissipated upon reaching the crest of the hill. The mansion came into view, it's verandah and front yard teeming with police and emergency personnel. He hurried towards them, his feet slopping through the mud as he passed a lone fire truck, it's wheels bogged deep within the marshy ground.

_Good luck getting that out._

Officer Nguyen noticed his counterpart almost immediately, nodding grimly as Johnson joined him and glanced around.

"What the hell is all this?"

"Three local boys were reported missing last night. Bob Newhart and that new kid from the LAPD were dispatched this morning to investigate…" Nguyen trailed off, distracted by a loud yell. Shielding his eyes from the sun, Johnson followed his gaze towards an officer in blue crime scene overalls who had seemingly broken through the rotting front verandah and was hollering in pain.

"Well," pressed the deputy impatiently, waiting for Nguyen to continue. "What did they find?"

"That's the problem, sir. Their last communication was at about midday. One of the local kids had mentioned that the three boys had talked about coming here, and they were going to check it out."

"… last communication? You mean…"

"They're gone, sir. We can't find a trace of _them_, either," he said, scratching his head distractedly. "Not even their patrol car."

"You're kidding me?" said the deputy, "then why is the rest of the 'goon squad' here?" he asked, gesturing towards the two-dozen odd officers prowling the grounds.

Nguyen turned and promptly walked away, beckoning for Johnson to follow. They passed around the back of the mansion, careful not to step within the marshy spots. The back garden, once lush and fertile was now dense and

overgrown, a tangle of brambles and creeper vines. They lashed at Johnsons face as he struggled forwards, envying Nguyen's smaller, more agile frame.

Nguyen sighed, before pulling a large branch aside and waiting for Johnson to pass through. "_That _is why the 'goon squad' are here."

As the Deputy's eyes adjusted to the filtered light, he saw a large vehicle lying within the mud, clearly the worse for wear. On closer inspection, the deputy realized that it was an aircraft, golden yellow and with an entire wing

obliterated by the impact of the crash landing. The side passenger door was severely dented and the windshield was smashed to pieces. Three forensics personnel were working the interior while a fourth was collecting a sample from the front bonnet. Johnson rubbed his temples, peering at the smudge being expertly lifted from the fiberglass shell.

_What the hell?_

"The vehicle is unmarked and unregistered, but we should have some fingerprints to analyze within the hour." Nguyen said, his hands stuffed deep within his pockets.

"They've searched the house?" the deputy asked, not really surprised when his counterpart nodded.

"Yeah... top to toe. Only found crumbling walls and a couple of stray cats."

"Jesus," he said, not for the first time that day. "What about the grounds?"

Nguyen shook his head, following Johnson away from the grounded air-craft. "We got helicopters, sonar, dogs. There's nothing here. It's like they just… vanished into thin air."

Johnson sniffed, wiping the collected sweat from his brow. The day had been stiflingly hot and even at 5pm, the humidity was still evident.

They reached the main house again within a few minutes. Deputy Johnson looked around, bewildered and at a loss to explain the apparent disappearance of two of his best men… not to mention the kids. The rescue teams appeared to be packing up and heading back out towards the main road. Only the interstate forensic people remained.

He motioned towards his officers, knowing that there was nothing more to be done here. Forensics would turn up something tangible

"Lets get back to the office. See if we can retrace their steps… find a few new leads."

Shoulders hunched, the disappointed officers made their way along the slippery driveway in the fading light.

It was going to be a long night.


End file.
